


The Lonely

by LadyFogg



Series: Valeska Oneshots [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Eventual Smut, F/M, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-08 08:05:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14689926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: Lost in your own thoughts, you reflect on your childhood in the circus, startled back to reality when a ghost from your past suddenly reappears.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one just kinda came to me. I'll update the tags once I finish the second chapter. 
> 
> Fic Song: the lonely by Christina Perri

Night falls as you walk through campus, messing with the strap of the messenger bag slung across your chest. The streets are nearly empty, and considering the criminal activity in Gotham, you’re not surprised. People tend to stay inside once night comes around, safe and sound in their homes. You like the evenings though, always have.

In the circus, night meant you finally could be alone. Between the crowds and your large family, it was next to impossible to find time for yourself throughout the day. So when night fell, you would sneak out of the trailer and find a quiet spot in the tent to listen to music, read, or dance. 

You’ve never been one for the company of others, and throughout your life, you’ve only had one friend.

Years ago, when you were still young, there had been a boy around your age who also preferred to be alone. Aside from his twin, you rarely saw him with anyone else. You ran into each other when he too was trying to find a place to unwind. He was far smarter than anyone you’ve ever met and was clearly desperate to leave. Despite this, you seemed to get along. His brother on the other hand, always made you uncomfortable. You never liked the way he stared at you. 

Then, one day your friend disappeared, and you never saw him again. His mother and twin still hung around, but you did your best to avoid them. 

The dance studio is dark and empty when you finally get there, and the sight is enough to instantly make you relax. Dropping your bag into a corner, you shrug out of your hoodie before crossing to the bar mounted on the wall. While you stretch your stiff muscles, your mind wanders back to your circus life, as it has been doing quite a bit lately. 

You weren’t surprised to hear Jerome murdered his mother. Alleycats and small animals tended to disappear around the Valeska trailer, and show up mutilated days later. Jeremiah had told you of his brother’s favorite past time, and when he vanished, you always suspected Jerome had something to do with it. Then there was that unnerving stare. 

Done stretching, you walk over to the stereo in the corner of the room and press play. Soft music echoes through the studio, shadows creeping in through the large windows. Briefly, you consider turning on the lights, but then decide you enjoy the darkness. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and let the music surround you, familiarizing yourself with the rhythm before you start to move. Once you do, you lose yourself in the experience, the rest of the world melting away as you dance around the room. 

As you do, you reflect on your past, replaying the day you left the circus, how liberated you felt to finally be on your own. Not that it hasn’t been a struggle adjusting to this new life. The culture shock alone had been stressful. Any money you had saved was gone fairly quickly, but thankfully between work and classes, you’ve fallen into a stable routine. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you pause mid-twirl, ears catching the slight click of the studio door as it closes. Slowly, you open your eyes. Moonlight shines through the large windows now, a testament to how long you’ve been there. 

Looking in the mirror, your eyes land on a dark figure tucked in the shadows behind you, watching. Your heart drops as you straighten your stance, body tense. 

“Can I help you?” you ask in a low, careful voice. 

They don’t answer. Briefly you glance at your bag, wondering if you have a chance to dive for the pocket knife there before the person attacks. Before you can, however, they step forward and your heart skips a beat. 

“J-Jeremiah?” 

His pale skin is luminescent as moonlight washes over him, a spectre of your past, coming to haunt your new life. Your breath catches in surprise. You always thought it would be Jerome that came to take you. After he broke out of Arkham, you kept your guard up, half-expecting him to appear out of nowhere with the evil sneer of his. He never did, and once he was put away for good, you were relieved. 

Jeremiah remains standing still, piercing blue eyes raking in your appearance as if trying to commit it to memory. When he says your name, it’s quiet but firm, his voice devoid of emotion. “It’s been a long time,” he says. 

Your breath starts to come in pants, and before you can stop yourself, you rush across the room and throw your arms around him. “You’re alive! When you disappeared, I thought Jerome killed you.”

Jeremiah places his hands on your hips, turning his face to the side so he can softly nuzzle your hair. “As if my brother could get the best of me,” he states. “He was always rather shortsighted.” 

His voice, his demeanor, none of it is how you remember. You let your arms slide off his shoulders as you take a step back, really studying him this time. “You’re...different.”

“Only cosmetically,” Jeremiah responds, face an unnerving mask of indifference. “That, I have to thank my pathetic brother for.”

“Not just your looks,” you say. “Just...you.” Unable to find the right words, you try to remember the young boy you knew from your childhood, the one with carefully parted hair and round glasses who would quietly work on puzzles while you learned to dance. 

“People change,” Jeremiah says. “Though, the only thing different about me is that I’m no longer hiding.”

There’s something oddly alluring about him. A flush washes over you and you realize with a start that you’re attracted to him. He’s holding himself with confidence and power. Realizing you’re staring, you clear your throat and look down, forcing away your blush. 

“I’m surprised you looked me up after all this time,” you say.

Reaching into his suit jacket, Jeremiah withdraws a journal. “I wasn’t the only one,” he states. “It seems Jerome kept tabs on you while he was looking for me.”

A chill travels down your spine and your breath catches in your throat. “He was watching me?” you ask.

Jeremiah flips through several pages, and you’re startled to see your own image crudely sketched across them. It’s too dark to read the text, but you get the gist. Looks like Jerome hadn’t forgotten you as much as you had hoped. 

“Don’t worry, he’s been taken care of,” Jeremiah continues, tucking the journal back into his jacket. “Jerome’s dead. For good this time.”

Relief floods your system and your shoulders relax as tension leaves your body. “Good,” you sigh. “Is that why you’re here? To tell me he’s gone.”

Jeremiah cocks his head slightly, studying your face. “No,” he says. 

An arm snakes around your waist and you find yourself being tugged forward before a pale hand takes yours. Slowly, he moves you around the studio in a careful waltz. Words are lost and you follow his lead, brain unable to form a coherent thought. Your eyes are transfixed on his unnatural ones, unable to look away even as the music comes to an end. Jeremiah doesn’t stop when it does, continuing to lead you across the dance floor. 

You know you should have questions, you know you should be wary. But, for some reason, you feel content. Like this is where you’re meant to be. The longer you dance, the more you relax in Jeremiah’s arms. His scent is intoxicating, a mix of soap and something earthy that you can’t place. Lost in the moment, you allow yourself to lean into Jeremiah, resting your forehead on his shoulder. He turns his face and nuzzles your hair again, inhaling your scent. 

Drawing back, you glance up to find his face dangerously close, and when you move to put distance between you, a firm hand presses into your lower back, keeping you in place. 

Blood red lips descend on yours in a hard kiss, the hand holding yours letting go so he can cup your face. Trembling with equal parts need and fear, you kiss him back, fingers curling around the material of his purple suit. He abruptly pulls away a second later, his mouth stretching into a large grin. It fades just as quickly and he steps back, straightening his tie before offering his arm. 

“Shall we?”

As if in a daze, you slip your arm through his, allowing him to lead you out of the studio.    
  



	2. Chapter 2

 

You open your eyes, stifling a yawn as you slowly come back to consciousness. Curled in the passenger’s seat, your body is stiff from the long drive and it’s with a groan that you stretch your sore muscles. 

Next to you, Jeremiah is sitting exactly as he was when you dozed off; back straight, eyes focused on the road. Looking around, you’re able to tell that you’re still in Gotham, though you’re far deeper into the city that you’ve ever been before. 

“Not to sound childish, but are we there yet?” you ask, rolling your neck from side to side as you try to work the kinks out. 

Jeremiah smirks. “Almost,” he says, but does not elaborate.

Biting your lip to keep from asking more questions, you settle back into your seat with a sigh. You’re surprisingly calm, all things considered. And while Jeremiah’s appearance and demeanor are chilling, you can’t help but feel strangely safe with him. It’s almost as if you’re back to being children.

You’d spend hours tucked next to each other in your hiding places, trying to keep quiet while Jerome stomped around calling your names. Jeremiah would vow to take care of you, and all these years later, it seems he intends to keep that vow. 

“You can ask your questions, I know you want to,” he says, casting you sidelong glance, before his eyes snap back to the road. “There was a time I couldn’t get you to stop asking questions.”

Smiling at the memory, you have to admit you were a pretty nosy kid. He was always so quiet, scribbling in notebook after notebook; you were itching to know what he was drawing. Once, you caught a glimpse of what he was working on, but he refused to answer anything about the maze you saw. 

Eventually, you could tell the questions bothered Jeremiah, so you learned to keep them to yourself. 

“Where have you been all these years?” you ask, turning your body toward the driver’s seat so he has your full attention. “And why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

Jeremiah clenched his jaw, eyes staying on the road as he mulled over your question. “There were many reasons I left so suddenly,” he says. “For one, Jerome was going to kill me. I know he wanted to, I saw it every time he looked my way.”

That’s not surprising. 

“As far as where I’ve been, it’s not important,” he continues. “What’s important is that I’m here...with you.”

Jeremiah turns to you and smiles, and your stomach does a somersault. All this time and he never forgot you. Just like you never forgot him. Falling into silence, you turn back to the front of the car, watching the buildings go by until eventually, he pulls into a parking garage. 

It feels good to stretch your legs, and you can’t help but moan slightly as you step out of the car. Jeremiah barely makes a sound, climbing out of his seat and casually strolling around to your side. You would never guess he had been driving for hours. 

Again he offers you his arm, which you accept with a smile. As he leads you to the exit, you can’t help but notice how quiet it is. In fact, the garage is nearly empty. You would expect it to be busy considering the time of day. Jeremiah doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he doesn’t point it out. 

Even the lobby of the apartment complex is empty, which is when you finally say something. “Where is everyone?”

Jeremiah smiles. “The city has been evacuated,” he says. “We won’t be seeing anyone for a very long time.”

You’re startled by the news. “Shouldn’t we be leaving then? If they’re evacuating the city, that can’t be good,” you say. 

“Why would we do that?” Jeremiah asks. “Now we can finally be alone.”

Unable to wrap your head around his response, you allow him to lead you into the elevator. The ride up to the top floor is quiet, and you can’t help but fidget. The anticipation of the unknown is not something you’re comfortable with, and you don’t realize how much it’s getting to you until Jeremiah says, “You seem nervous.”

“Do I?” you ask, looking at him. 

Jeremiah is already staring, and he glances down pointedly. Your arm is tightly wrapped around his, hanging on for dear life. You can’t help but chuckle slightly.

“Yeah, I guess I am, a little,” you admit. 

“Do you think I would hurt my best friend?” Jeremiah questions. 

“No, nothing like that,” you assure him. “I know you won’t do anything to me. It’s just been so long since we’ve seen each other, and then that kiss…”

Blushing, you look away. You didn’t mean to bring that up, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t. But it was a hell of a kiss and it has been replaying in your mind for hours. 

He leans in closer, dropping his arm from yours so he can slide it around your waist. “I will admit, it was titillating,” he says in a husky voice, “arousing, even.”

You inhale sharply as desire floods your system. It surprises you, actually, since up until this point, you have never felt this way toward anyone before. Then again, there’s no one else like Jeremiah. 

The elevator door opens and Jeremiah leads you out with a gentle hand on your lower back. You find yourself in a large penthouse, with a sweeping view of the city. 

“Wow,” you whisper as you slowly make your way to the window. It was always so busy before, but now that the people are gone, you actually feel more at ease with the vastness. 

Jeremiah remains standing a few feet behind you, watching as you take in the apartment. “Do you like it?” he asks. 

Between living in a trailer and the tiny room you rented, you’ve never stayed anywhere with such high ceilings and large windows. The living room is bathed in natural light, filling you with warmth. 

You nod with a large smile. “It’s...big,” you comment. “There’s so much space. I never knew a place could be so open.”

Jeremiah smirks, glancing around. “I figured we both deserve something grand,” he says. “I made sure to lay claim to this place before it could be snatched up.”

“By who?” you ask. “I thought everyone was evacuating.” 

“The civilians are,” Jeremiah says. “There are a few...unsavory types who have refused to leave. We will deal with them soon enough.”

“Why am I here?” you ask. “What is all of this for?”

Jeremiah cocks his head to the side, studying you. “Have you not figured it out yet?” he asks. 

“You were always better at puzzles than I was,” you tease.

Nodding in reluctant agreement, Jeremiah steps toward you until he's mere inches away, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his body. "We are meant to be in each other's lives," he says. "From the day we met, I knew we would be together. If I had been older when I left, I would have been smart enough to take you with me. Everything I've done over the years, everything I've planned, has been for us."

Pale hands reach up to cup your face, as Jeremiah stares down at you with his eerie eyes. “We always kept each other safe, and now we always will.”

This time you’re ready for the kiss. With a sigh you melt against him, your hands coming up to gently rest on his waist. His lips are a bit stiff, unpracticed as they move against yours. But you don’t care because you’re also clumsy, even when you jab his lips with your tongue. He deepens the kiss, opening his mouth, but forcing his tongue past yours so he can taste you first. 

Your body erupts with goosebumps, heat washing over you from head to toe until it settles low in your belly. He pulls away abruptly, red lips glistening from his spit and yours. A fierce gaze you've never seen before graces his features, and with his lips curled into a pleased grin, he attacks you with another kiss.

There's no gentleness in this one. Want, need, and desire are all coursing through your system and you find yourself hurrying to undo his tie. Jeremiah starts to push you back until you pass through a doorway and find yourself in a bedroom. Clothing is yanked and torn as you rush to undress each other, eventually managing to before you break his kisses, gasping for breath. 

You fall onto the bed, bringing Jeremiah with you in the process. His hardening length brushes your inner thigh and suddenly you’re overwhelmed with emotion. Never in a million years did you ever dream the two of you would end up here. And you’ve never wanted anything more in your life. 

Spreading your legs, you place your feet flat on the bed, bracketing Jeremiah's hips. He grinds down against you, cock growing harder with each thrust to your thigh. You dig your fingers into his slicked-back hair, forcing his head down to your neck. He obliges, immediately kissing and nipping the sensitive flesh there. 

“ _ Jeremiah _ .” You whisper his name as you moan, arching your body underneath his. He thrusts down at the same time, and his length drags between your folds, making you gasp. 

Still biting and sucking your throat, Jeremiah growls softly while he grinds against the heat pressed against his cock, and soon you're so slick that his movements are effortless. There's no prep, no foreplay, no warning before he pushes into you with several quick thrusts. 

The sudden sensation of being filled is almost too much for you to handle, and you yank on his hair in surprise. Jeremiah groans, pushing up onto his hands so he can stare down at you. With eyes locked on yours, he starts to move his hips, staying as deeply buried in you as he can possibly be. You’re transfixed by his intense stare, barely noticing the ache of being taken so hard.

You’ve never experienced pure, raw desire, and it’s only fitting Jeremiah be the one to provide it. His cock is thick, filling you so deliciously you can’t help the whimpers and moans spilling out. He takes one hand briefly off the bed to reach down and grab your leg, nails biting your flesh as he makes you wrap it around him. 

Eager to please, you do as he silently commands, circling his hips with both legs and clinging to him. If you thought he was deep before, that was nothing compared to now. He’s grinding into you so fast, you barely have a moment to realize your orgasm is already building. He drops his full weight on top of your chest, bringing you so impossibly close together. 

He doesn’t speak, yet his hot breath panting in your ear is just as erotic. Knowing that you’re making him feel this way, that he chose  _ you  _ to stay with him in Gotham, is all too much to process. Per usual, while he’s silent, you’re anything but, moaning his name over and over again, until you’re too far gone to say anything other than “J”.

Sweat makes your bodies stick together, and when he finally grinds down hard enough to rub against your clit, you come completely undone, head thrown back and body locked around his as you ride out your pleasure. Jeremiah lets out a guttural chuckle, hips slamming against yours several more times until he stills for several seconds, the hot rush inside you near scalding, and then collapses. 

Heart racing and panting heavily, you lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs and release. It doesn’t last long, because shortly after, Jeremiah rolls off of you, making you shudder as the coolness from the room chills your overheated skin. He turns on his side to face you, hand cupping your cheek so he can make you look at him. 

“I won’t leave again,” he promises breathlessly, somehow still managing to sound calm at the same time. “And you won’t leave me.”

It’s not a question, it’s an order, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. “I won’t leave you.”

“Wonderful,” Jeremiah smirks, stroking your cheek before he rolls onto his back once more. 

Despite the nap you took earlier, between the sex and the drive you feel your eyelids grow heavy. With a content sigh, you curl into his side, tucking yourself into a ball. Jeremiah places a hand on your hip but otherwise makes no effort to draw you in closer. Seconds later, you drift off to the sleep. 

You must be more tired than you realize, because the next time you wake, night has fallen. In your sleepy state, you reach for Jeremiah only to find cold sheets. Prying your eyes open, you slowly push yourself up on your hands and look around. It's dark outside, save for the city lights and the feeble full moon, which disappears behind clouds. 

Jeremiah stands in front of the large windows, fully dressed with his hands loosely clutched behind his back. Frowning, you gather the sheets around you like a toga and slip off the bed. 

“J? Are you okay?” you ask. 

“Never better,” Jeremiah responds. He turns to face you, extending his hand. “Come, stand with me.”

His long fingers close around yours as you place your hand in his. With a soft tug, he draws you in, moving to stand behind you. 

“What do you think of the view?” he asks, arms circling your waist from behind. 

“It’s nice,” you say. “It's a shame all the people have to come back at some point.”

Jeremiah chuckles, resting his chin on your shoulder while he slowly starts to sway in place. Your body molds to his, and though you’re sore you wouldn’t object if he took you back to bed. “Funny you should say that…” he says. 

“Why?”

Jeremiah nuzzles your ear, whispering, “Shhh, just watch.”

Unsure of what you're supposed to be looking at, you place your hands over his and keep your eyes on the twinkling city lights. Suddenly, there's a flash in the distance, followed by several explosions. Right before your eyes, the bridges connecting Gotham to the rest of the world start to collapse.

And you feel nothing.

Not surprise. Not horror. Only curiosity as you watch each bridge crumble. 

Jeremiah moves to stand beside you, still hugging you to his chest and grinning wider than you've ever seen. “Isn't it beautiful?” he asks. 

Tearing your eyes away from the destruction, you look at Jeremiah. The pure joy on his face is the most spectacular thing you've ever seen. 

“Absolutely stunning,” you tell him. 

Jeremiah looks down at you, eyes twinkling. His grin drops to a smirk as he leans down for a kiss. Slipping your arms around his neck, you meet him halfway, as Gotham goes dark outside your window.

 


End file.
